


Knock Down Drag Out

by peacefulboo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:11:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1376755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefulboo/pseuds/peacefulboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first real fight is weeks in the making.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knock Down Drag Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andymcnope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andymcnope/gifts).



> Thanks to Fey for the prompt over on tumblr and for her fantastic help untangling this mangled, mangled mess. It's much, much better for having your eyes and thoughts on it.

Knock Down Drag Out 

After a year of silence Slade resurfaces. The man knows how to drag out his vengeance.

Felicity and Sara are both in Slade's sights and he promises Oliver that the only thing that will keep them alive and well is Oliver's silence. That's all he needs to do. 

It's simple enough, but Slade makes a habit of taunting Oliver. A picture here, a note there. It's a game of chicken that Oliver should have no trouble winning. 

Except he does. 

A few years ago it would be a cakewalk. A few years ago he didn't have a team. And damnit if he hasn't gotten used to trusting them with damn near anything. Oliver is an excellent secret keeper. But not from them. 

Felicity and Sara know that something's going on, Oliver has been nursing a low level rage for weeks, but try as they might neither can get him to open up. 

A week in, Sara convinces a particularly restless Oliver to spar with her.

“C'mon, Ollie. You look like an idiot swinging that thing at the poor tire.” 

There's no warm up and no need to test the waters. Each knows the other's fighting style well enough that they just go straight for the weaknesses and tender spots. The result is hours long and brutal. He takes her down four times in a row, getting in solid hits and a kick that's maybe a little harder than normal, but she just grins and motions him to keep at it. The next round, she's able to use her legs to drag him down, using pressure points to keep him there. It goes on and on until they're both so exhausted that they end up laying in a pile, trying to convince each other to get up first. 

Oliver is grateful for the time and effort Sara's put in, even as he cringes at the injuries that litter her body. As he starts to push himself up, he has to suck in a breath as he discovers yet another skin split across his lower left ribs. He lowers himself back to the ground. He'll let his body rest a few more minutes. 

Sara groans and then laughs. “That was brutal. You feel better now?” 

Her eyes are kinder and Oliver softens a bit more, turning toward and bring her bloodied hands to his lips. 

“I do, yeah.”

Felicity finds them there an hour later, clenching her jaw when sees the bruises and cuts and split lips. If she has a comment, she swallows it down and gets the herbs and cold packs ready. 

Later that night Sara is in the bathroom, Felicity and Oliver already ready for bed. She's laying next to him but not touching since the adrenalin has worn off and he's feeling every single bump and bruise. 

She decides to be brave, fully aware of just how angry Oliver was during the majority of the day. 

“You'll tell me if it's something that I need to know, yeah?” Okay, so maybe not that brave. 

He doesn't answer right away and she can practically hear him thinking. Finally he leans over and kisses her lips, firm but brief. 

“If it's something you need to know, you'll always know.”

It's a frustrating answer. 

Oliver's mood doesn't improve much. And any attempts to get him to open up are met with silence or a brush off. The tension between the three of them keeps building and building and spills over into the lair and the office. 

Diggle has to talk Felicity down off the proverbial ledge a few times before he hits Oliver square in the jaw on night when he snaps at Felicity one too many times. 

Felicity goes home early that night. 

Oliver's heart breaks when he and Sara finally make it home to find Felicity sleep on the couch, face still tear stained. 

“Whatever's going on, Ollie, you don't have to tell me. You probably should, but I don't need to know if you don't need me to know. But it's hurting her. And that's not okay.” Sara wakes Felicity up enough to guide her to bed. She holds her and can't decide if she wishes Felicity were different. Less curious. Less in her head. More cable of dropping things that obviously need to be dropped. 

It's not that Sara's not curious. She just knows all too well that curiosity can be deadly. And she trusts Oliver. She trusts his judgment, maybe more than she should. But she knows that he's had to make shit ass decisions and that he's obviously in the middle of yet another one. 

And she knows it's probably not a choice. 

Oliver and Sara have another knock down drag out sparing session a weeks later. This one ends in sex brutal enough that it leaves both of them a little stunned once they're lying, half-naked on the floor, panting into the silence. 

This time they pull themselves together, shower and are fully clothed before anyone else comes down into the lair, but they can't hide these bruises or, “God, is that a bite mark?” from Felicity that night. 

“We got a little carried away” Sara's reply is muffled by the pillow. 

Felicity drops the subject. She's fine with kinky sex. She loves kinky sex. She's a little jealous that she missed the kinky sex. But something about this feels different. She just can't put her finger on it.

***

The real fight starts, unsurprisingly, with a pissed off Oliver. From the second he arrives in the lair the energy changes. He pulls off his tie with a jerky tug, throwing it over into the corner, then shrugs out of his jacket quickly, chucking it over the bed. He barely takes the time to roll up his sleeves before he's going to town on what Felicity likes to call, the beam-y, stick-y thing. 

Sara, who is quite possibly in a stupid mood herself, decides this is a fantastic time to egg him on. 

“Come hit something that can hit back, Ollie.” She's smirking but there's something dangerous underneath the mischievousness. She knows he's on the cusp of breaking. And she's pretty damn sure it's exactly what he needs. What they all need. 

“Not now, Sara.” His words are clipped as he keeps hitting away. 

“C'mon, Ollie. You know it's more satisfying when your target moves.” She taps his shoulder and he turns quickly, his swing barely missing Sara's chin as she ducks away. Sara hits back and within seconds they're grappling hard all elbows and fierce punches. Nothing gets pulled. 

“No.” Felicity doesn't yell it, but her voice comes out firm and dead serious. And miracle of miracles they stop. “Uh uh. Not okay. So very not okay. At all.”

It's only when they turn to look at her that they see she's shaking and a little pale. That's when it hits them. Oliver closes his eyes and takes a breath. He forces himself into stillness for a solid minute before opening his eyes and looking back at the two women. 

Sara isn't entirely sure what to do. So she slowly approaches Felicity, maintaining eye contact the whole time and waits. 

“I know that it is the height of naive to tell you both that violence is not a part of this relationship. Because it just is. But not this. I can't do this if you're doing that. I don't understand that.”

“We spar all the time, Felicity.” Sara starts but is cut off by Felicity shaking her head quickly. 

“That? Is not sparring. That is...I don't know what that is, but it's mean and you both were so angry and. No. That's not sparring.” 

Neither Oliver or Sara know what to say to that so they just wait a bit knowing she isn't finished.

“I know you're angry. I know you're both so fucking angry. All the time. But damnit. You love each other. A lot. And you love me. And I don't really understand how that is loving.”

“It's not,” Oliver admits. “It's not about love.”

“Oh please. It's everything to do with love,” Sara rebuts. 

Felicity looks at her sharply. 

“We're very fucked up people, Felicity. You know that better than anyone. I'm very fucked up. There are things that I've seen and done that I don't even dream about. And I did it because I had to. I was made to. And I never, ever thought I'd get out of that life. I thought I'd be stuck killing and hurting and maiming until I died. And I'm very glad that that is not where my life ended. That I found another way. That I found you and I found Ollie again.” 

She stops, looking to Oliver for encouragement and he nods back. 

He can see where she's going with this now. 

“There are days when all that fucked up shit starts to come back up, though. The fear and anger build and build and build and it has to be vented. If it's not I'll split apart. We'll split apart. Or kill someone. Maybe just because it feels normal. At least that's what it is for me. He's my pop off valve. And I'm his.”

“But how is that okay? How is beating the shit out of each other when you're that far gone even remotely okay?”

“I know it's her. The whole time I know it's her. I know what she can take. I know what she needs and she knows what I need. Just like you know what I need and I know what you need.” Oliver's answer is simple. 

“Except you don't. Because while you guys have been getting your fight club on over here, I'm so left in the dark with no answers and an angry boyfriend and a girlfriend who seems happy to get the shit beat out of her.” 

“Slade's back. And he will kill you if he finds out that anyone but me knows. He'll kill both of you.” Oliver lays it all on the table. He feels little relief. 

“You think I didn't need to know that?” she asks. 

“I didn't think I could risk it.”

“Why tell me now, then? Why after all this time would you tell me?”

“Because it feels like I'm losing you anyway.”

“Well this is just...awesome.” Felicity moves to the couch and lets herself sink into it. Sara and then Oliver follow to do the same. 

“I'm sorry,” Oliver offers. 

Felicity figures that he's probably sorry about a lot of things. Sorry that he didn't tell her and just as sorry that he has.

“He's fucking with you, you know that right?” Sara says, taking Oliver's hand in her own and rubbing her thumb over his battered knuckles. 

“Yeah. I know.”

“There were no good choices.” Felicity allows him that. 

Oliver doesn't respond. What's left to say? 

They head home shortly after, Oliver tense anytime they're outdoors. He knows that when Slade makes good on his promise to come after them, he's likely going to make a production out of it, but that doesn't keep Oliver from assessing possible sniper nests and being hyper vigilant.

Once the three of them are in bed, Oliver and Sara flanking Felicity as usual, Felicity broaches the subject again. 

“I always need to know.” She turns to look first at Oliver and then at Sara, “I always need to know,” she repeats. 

“I know. But it doesn't stop me from feeling like I've signed your death warrant.” 

“Never. Unless you pull the trigger, it's not on you, Oliver. It's not on you.” 

“She's right, you know.” Sara tells him. But then, she's been telling him the same thing since Shado.

“I am right.” Felicity agrees. Smiling for the first time that night. 

“You are always right.” Oliver kisses her cheek. 

The fight isn't fully resolved. It may never be fully resolved. Relationships are confusing and brutal when there's only two people involved. Three makes it harder even as it makes it easier. 

Later, after Slade is dead and they have some time to breathe, Sara tells Oliver that without Felicity they probably would have destroyed each other by now. Again. 

As much as Oliver loves Sara (and God, does he love her) he knows she's probably right.


End file.
